The Library Chronicles
by Cerezax
Summary: One night. Ten University Students. Finals Week. Or, what kind of students would The 100 kids be during finals week with minimal dialogue (because talking isn't permitted in the library, okay?). Told in a series of connected flash fics. (This has already turned less flash-ficy than intended, but it's still relatively short) (Cross posted from AO3).
1. i Clarke

_i. Clarke._

Thirteen hours. Her shift on the ward had ended up being thirteen hours long. The brutality of that reality was substantial and unmistakable. All semester long she had fought to find a balance between the endless shifts on the wards and her consistent stream of papers, lab write ups, projects, and exams. Getting straight A's in this time was nothing short of miraculous if you were anyone but Clarke Griffin. For Clarke, it was so normal that it was honestly kind of boring. Truthfully though, Clarke wasn't sure how she had survived thus far, but she had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with copious amounts of coffee and the sacrifice of both sleep and her social life.

All good things must come to an end though. It was finals season, the one time of year that brought even the great Clarke Griffin to her knees. Very few students were able to escape finals week unscathed, and that was when they were focused on nothing but exams. It was entirely possible that adding in a fulltime schedule at the hospital to the mix of finals and papers would be enough to kill her. Initially, Clarke had been confident that she could make all her schedules work together, but the reality had been very different. This may have been the worst idea she had ever had, a thought she became well aware of as she struggled to stay awake long enough to even get to the library. She had been lucky to find a spot in the parking lot on campus, and even luckier to have dragged her feet all the way to the library.

It was already ten, and she was sure that her luck was about to run out. Any other time of the year and Clarke wouldn't be worried about how late she was getting to the library; she had spent many late nights in the library and she had made it to the library even later than this plenty of times. That was during the normal semester though, when only the most dedicated of students could be found in the library at this time of night. Finals week was an entirely different situation, and the importance of these exams was enough to drive even the biggest slackers to the stacks. The chances were high that there was going to be no space left by the time Clarke made it. The lack of a desk or chair wouldn't be the end of the world, but she needed an outlet, and there was never enough of them to go around.

As Clarke trudged into the library, her feet aching and her eyes already bleary, there was a fleeting moment when she was sure she was about to burst into tears. Every single student enrolled in classes must have been in this library right now. How could this school even have this many students!? Did the kids by the computer lab even go here?

 _No, no, no no…_ This could not be happening. There had to be at least one spot. Clarke would gladly sit in a closet for the rest of the night – she just needed an outlet. Clarke lapped the library half a dozen times, panic welling up in her gut with each pass, but to no avail. The library was full. She couldn't go back to the dorm, not a chance. The dorms were always full of people who clearly didn't care about their own, or anyone else's, education. Finals week to them meant party week, and Clarke couldn't take another night of listening to it. She really had to study.

Perhaps if she hadn't been as exhausted as she was, Clarke may have thought to text one of her friends. It was widely known in her group of friends that they pretty much all lived in the library during finals season. It would have saved her a lot of stress and even more time if she'd had the brain capacity at the time to pull out her cell phone. Later, she would realize that this was probably one of many, many clues that she should have just gone home that night. One night less of studying wasn't going to kill her.

Right now, though, Clarke was sure that one night less of studying would absolutely kill her, are you crazy? She had a very exact schedule drawn up for her finals week. Seriously. It was written out and colour-coded. Her whole life was scheduled. There was a time slot for everything, but it didn't allow for any flexibility. By the end of tonight she needed to have finished her research paper, completed her study guide for bio-chem, read the last four chapters in her medical history text, and re-do her last lab write-up, because it was a nightmare. Clarke honestly didn't know what she would do if she wasn't productive tonight.

She was honestly starting to feel sick and starting wracking her brain for any back-up plan it could come up with. Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw some movement. Someone was putting a book into their bag!

"Are you leaving?" Clarke whispered, her eyes wide with hope.

The guy looked up at her and shook her head, "not for a while, no. Sorry."

"I will give you fifty bucks for that desk." She was desperate.

"Uh…I don't think so."

"A hundred? Two?"

He shook his head, "look I really gotta get back to studying. I hope you find a seat."

Clarke was beyond desperate at this point. She wasn't thinking logically and all she knew was that if she wanted to pass her exams, she needed to study. Her sleep deprivation was getting the best of her and before her brain had caught up, her mouth was speaking.

"Five hundred dollars, c'mon man. Help me out here."

"Clarke?"

A worn-out smile found its way onto her lips at the sound of a familiar voice from behind. Even in a whisper, Bellamy's voice was gruff and gravelly and inexplicably comforting. She turned to face where the voice had come from.

"Did I just hear you offer him five hundred bucks?"

Clarke grinned sheepishly, but Bellamy didn't miss the panic in her eyes as she nodded her head.

"Miller took off already so you can take his spot in the group room," Bellamy pointed his thumb back over his shoulder.

With a sly grin Clarke looked over at the other guy, "you just lost out on five hundred bucks."

Clarke followed Bellamy, glad to see that her luck had returned.


	2. ii Bellamy

_ii. Bellamy_

Everyone always seemed surprised that Bellamy would spend as much time as he did in the library during finals. It was fair, he supposed; all through the semester he was pretty laid back. To be honest, he just didn't see the point of killing himself the entire semester just for a measly percentage or two extra on a project or a paper. He would watch his friends pull all-nighters all semester long, forgo any sort of fun in their lives for months on end, only to find themselves just as stressed in the finals. Sure, Bellamy wanted the same great grades as they all did – and he got them just fine, but why torture yourself like that? He always felt like you could be a dedicated and motivated student without completely destroying yourself throughout the semester. That was his motto when it came to his classes.

It felt like a lifetime ago that Bellamy had dropped out of high school to take care of Octavia. It was senior year, and he was a semester away from graduating. Bellamy already had his acceptance to university and enough scholarships to make it possible. Plans change though, and he had to leave it all behind. Octavia had been so young when their mother died that he really hadn't had a choice in the matter. There had been people over the years who suggested that he hadn't needed to fight as hard as he did for custody. They were wrong. Octavia being raised by a family of strangers was completely out of the question. Unfortunately, there was no time for school when he was working three jobs and taking care of his sister. Once Octavia had reached high school, Bellamy jumped on the opportunity to start taking night classes. While working his three jobs, Bellamy managed to finish his high school diploma in just one month, and then wasted no time in enrolling in university.

Dedicated was an understatement.

No one was used to seeing Bellamy stress about exams. He was often the only one that wasn't panicking about midterms and projects. If he could survive working three jobs and raising a teenaged girl, he could sure as hell survive whatever university could throw at him. Until finals anyways. By the time finals came around, Bellamy was in the same boat as everyone else. Anyone who didn't feel pressure when taking exams worth at least half of their final grade was probably certifiably insane anyways.

Well, almost everyone else anyways. Miller had joined them in the library around five that night. Miller was the one who had been on top of everything all semester, but Bellamy had to admit that he was surprised that he wasn't more worried about finals. Miller's lack of stress was evident as he headed home around eight or nine. It was either that, or Miller knew there was no redeeming the semester and had simply given up. The latter was incredibly unlikely though. Bellamy had smiled and nodded goodbye at Miller as he left, but the smile was just for show. His jealously knew no bounds.

His gaze returned to his desk to continue reading through his notes, and there they remained for hours. He had lecture upon lecture upon lectures of notes written in his notebooks – the margins filled with notations about hints and tips the professor had offered in class. Somehow, Bellamy had filled nine notebooks this semester. His friends always snickered at him for using actual pens and paper.

 _"You've killed like ninety trees this semester alone!"_ He could hear his sister now. Clarke would often remind him that they lived in the twenty-first century. He didn't care though.

There was just something about paper and ink that Bellamy loved. He didn't necessarily hate computers, but he didn't see them as being as convenient as everyone else did. Not a semester had gone by where he hadn't heard someone panicking about their laptop or computer crashing and losing all their work. Yeah, no thanks. That sounded awful.

Besides, without a laptop plugged into the outlet at his study carrel, Bellamy had a free outlet. He couldn't find a better use for that outlet than a coffee maker. His friends had thought he was joking when he said he was bringing his coffee maker from home, but he absolutely was not. He would never joke about the source of his caffeination – especially during finals week. He had just put on another pot when he heard a familiar voice drift into the room. It was just loud enough for him to hear, and if it had been any other voice, he probably wouldn't have picked up on it at all.

" _I will give you fifty bucks for that desk."_

Of course she would. Bellamy chuckled to himself as he wandered out to find where the small blonde was and rescue the poor sap she was trying to pay off. He kept their interaction brief, knowing they both really needed to get back to their books. The look of total relief on Clarke's face appealed deeply to Bellamy's need to take care of others. It wasn't often that Bellamy had the opportunity to take care of Clarke. This chance seemed to only come around during finals week, so he was more than happy to jump on those opportunities. Usually he was making sure that Clarke had eaten or had at least a couple hours of sleep or had drank some water recently. These attempts were almost always greeted by resistance, but the simple act of offering a place to study was one that Clarke would never refuse.

Clarke settled in quickly to her newly found study carrel. It never ceased to amaze Bellamy how much she spread out while studying – and how much stuff she really had. He had never seen that many coloured pens and notecards. There were charts made up for god's sake! He thought he took this stuff seriously…

"Little late to be getting here, huh?" He grinned, leaning on the wall of the carrel.

Clarke sighed, "one of those days…"

"We almost thought you weren't going to grace us with your presence," he winked.

"During finals? You wish. Gang's all here, huh?" Clarke looked around at her friends, each buried in their books. "Wait, where's Octavia?"

Bellamy shrugged, "you know how she is."

Clarke nodded knowingly before putting her earplugs in. Bellamy gave a small wave as a farewell and returned to his own desk across the aisle. By now, he should have a fresh pot of coffee waiting for him and he could start in on his history paper. He had about fifteen pages left of information to cover, but writing argumentative papers was definitely Bellamy's forte.

The only problem was, he did not return to a pot of glorious coffee. Instead he found a pot of hot water. Someone had taken out his coffee grinds. Again.

"Damnit, Wick!"


	3. iii Octavia

_iii. Octavia_

"Where's Octavia?"

A question she's sure was asked dozens of times each night. She was one of the lucky ones; she got a study carrel with a working light and even a working outlet. Other students might see it as a crime most heinous, to have such a great spot and abandon it so regularly, but Octavia couldn't help it. If she had to be trapped in the library all night, she'd be damned if she was going to remain shackled to a desk too.

Octavia liked to move; she didn't like sitting still. It made her antsy, and antsy Octavia was unlikely to get any real studying done. So she paced with her textbooks. Up and down the stacks. Laps around the room. Around and through the rows upon rows of desks. With her nose stuck in a book as she walked, she was sure that one of these laps would end disastrously, with her flat on her ass (or worse, her face), but she had been good so far. There had been a few times she had nearly tripped over a rogue laptop cord or a student sleeping in the most awkward position possible – once or twice it had been Jasper – but she managed to avoid it each time.

In all honesty, this was the only way Octavia could make herself read these books. She knew what she wanted to do – she wanted to take care of kids. Kids like her, who had messed up family lives. Kids not like her, ones that didn't have someone like Bellamy to take care of them. To do that, she needed to read an endless number of psychology textbooks. It made sense, and Octavia knew it, but as finals loomed in the not-distant-enough future, she became much less rational about the whole thing. It was a good thing, really, that social workers and child psychologists had to have such stringent degrees, but it really fucking sucked. Hence the laps around the library – anything to let her get through these dry textbooks.

Her travels weren't done completely with her eyes glued to her textbook though. Those students she nearly tripped over? If they had their jacket nearby, she'd pull it over them so they wouldn't be cold. She'd plug their phone in for them so it would be charged when they awoke. If they were asleep in their seats, she'd make sure the work on their computer was saved – just in case. It wasn't much, but sometimes the little things made a big difference. She had learned that from the best. He may not have realized Octavia was paying attention, but she had learned how to take care of others from Bell - not that she'd ever admit that to him.

So take care of people she did. Finals are stressful – that's no secret. It was completely understandable if someone was too overwhelmed and snapped under the pressures. Octavia didn't make a single lap through the library without finding at least one student crying or hyperventilating. It wasn't in Octavia's nature to ignore their suffering. Taking care of others came from Bellamy, but her intense sense of compassion was all her own. She couldn't even hazard a guess as to how many minutes - maybe even hours by now - she had lost of her own study time comforting a friend or a complete stranger. It was just the right thing to do. It got to the point where she was recognized as being the mom of the library. She thought she had heard "fairy godmother" once or twice, but she had yet to confirm that one. There were worse things to be called anyways.

As much as she enjoyed her excursions, Octavia always returned to her desk. There was too much to get done to indulge in her flights of fancy for too long. She had papers to write and case studies to analyse. She even had reading that wasn't so mind-numbingly boring that she needed to be on the move to handle it. Plus, her study carrel was actually her favorite place on campus right now. She had made it her own, and it was comforting to return to. Unless Kyle had meddled with it again. Which of course he did, that's what Kyle did best.

Even still, it was rare that she went back of her own volition. Sometimes she was summoned back by a text message from her brother or by a need for coffee, but this time she was tasked with returning a half-awake Jasper to his desk. She had found him asleep leaning against a shelf in the referencing aisle. Poor dude. She couldn't just leave him there, he was short on time as it was. If anyone was utterly defeated by finals week, it was Jasper.

"C'mon buddy, let's get you back to your desk," Octavia stifled a giggle. "We'll get some coffee in ya."

Jasper didn't seem to really grasp who he was talking to or what was happening. She was surprised that he managed to not only nod his head but to make a coherent sound in response.

"M'kay," he muttered as he stumbled over his feet.


	4. iv Jasper

_iv. Jasper_

If anyone was utterly defeated by finals week, it was definitely Jasper. Apparently taking eight classes, two online courses, running a school club, and working part time was a little too much, which you think he would have learned the last two semesters that he did this to himself. Or ya know, common sense would have told him this. Or hearing Monty tell him over and over again. There had been plenty of hints over the years, but apparently Jasper was impervious to these things. The good news was he'd only cried once. Maybe twice.

Unless you count sobbing from exhaustion. Jasper didn't, so just the twice.

That was on the precipice of changing right now, though. This paper had taken him days to complete, because it rudely refused to write itself. It was done, though, and that was as close to a miracle as Jasper thought would ever happen. There was to be a momentous celebration upon its completion, but now was not that time. Not yet. The reference list still needed to be compiled, and of course that was being a nightmare. Which is what led him to the referencing aisle. Jasper was determined to finish this list tonight, but of course this was when the Red Bull decided to wear off. He was about 50% Red Bull at this point, so the fact that it managed to wear off was surprising to pretty much everyone. Of course, no one was as surprised as Jasper – evidenced by the new found kink in his neck and the imprint of a shelf on his forehead.

The next thing he was aware of was Octavia guiding him back to the study room. At some point he realized he had a book clutched to his chest, and he really hoped that it was at least a useful reference book. The distance back to the referencing aisle was too much on this little sleep, and if he ventured into the vast world of the internet instead, he would be forever lost in Reddit threads and stupid cat videos.

"Oof, you look like you could use another cuppa," Bellamy chuckled.

Jasper nodded and smiled gratefully as he grabbed the mug offered by Bellamy. An uncountable number of students had paraded by, hoping against hope that Bellamy would share his coffee with them. The library had free coffee all through finals week, but it was that horrible, terrible instant shit. No one wanted that – not even poor students. Unfortunately for them, Bellamy wasn't a people person. More than that, Bellamy wasn't much for sharing. Well that's not exactly true, Bellamy didn't mind sharing – he just had a select few that he deemed worthy of his generosity. For a long time that was only Octavia and Clarke, but apparently Jasper finally made the cut.

And he was eternally grateful.

"Thanks, Bellamy."

He hoped the caffeine would kick in soon, because he had so much more than just a reference list to complete. At some point he needed to learn the entire course load from organic chemistry. He was still in a haze when he opened his book, but at least he wasn't sleeping on his feet now. The downside to that was that the panic was able to set back in again.

He had six papers, seventeen lab write ups, four online assignments, two group projects, and ten study guides to work through. Why did he procrastinate so long!? How could this have happened? He didn't even think his classes had assigned this much work. Jasper couldn't even fathom how he had let this many lab write ups slide throughout the semester. What had he been doing with all his time?

Monty would probably have an itemized list of all the ways Jasper had put off his assignments. It would have notations for every time he reminded Jasper of his homework, because of course it would. Smug bastard. Maybe one day he'd actually listen to Monty (he wouldn't).

That didn't help now though. His current to-do list didn't even factor in the studying he needed to do for finals. Why were his study guides 20 pages each!? Were his classes run by sadists? They must be. It was the only logical explanation. That or Satan had made them do it. Weren't they ever warned that deals with the Devil never ended well?

Either way, Jasper was screwed. Totally and utterly screwed. At this point, his best bet was to hope that he could absorb the information in his sleep somehow, because he was sure there would be many more sneak attack naps in his future. No amount of coffee and energy drinks were going to be enough to combat the total lack of sleep Jasper was running on.

He also learned throughout the night that mixing coffee and Red Bull was an awful idea. It did manage to keep him mostly awake, on and off anyways, and that was a plus. It also seemed to make the room shake. Or maybe that was him. It was probably him, which was probably not good. It was about as good as it was to be able to hear colours. What else was he supposed to do though? Jasper was being motivated by pure, unadulterated panic, and that did not leave much room for logic.

Another total meltdown was imminent when Jasper heard a weird sound. It was unique and he would know it anywhere. A wheely chair came rolling up to his seat and knocked into the chair gently. A wide smile spread across his face.

Wick called over to him, "think you can beat me this time?"

"Oh, it is on!"

So much for studying…

Next: _Raven_


	5. v Raven

_v. Raven_

"You two idiots had better be taking that out in the hall," Raven snarled.

Jasper and Wick nodded as they made their swift escape from the study room. Raven didn't quite have the wherewithal to really enjoy the look of pure terror on Jasper's face, but she did manage to roll her eyes before returning to her textbook.

It really did feel like she was the only one at the library that was actually here to study. There was Bellamy, who was too busy wrangling his sister and making moon eyes at Clarke when she wasn't looking. Octavia, who was AWOL most of the night, and no matter what she said, there was no way that Octavia was actually studying in her time away. It was definitely not a coincidence that Lincoln also went MIA half of the time Octavia was gone. Monty tried his best, but was roped into shenanigans with Wick and Jasper constantly. The four of them had a lot of the same classes – she knew they were going to be fucked for these finals. She expected this from Wick and Jasper because she watched them screw around in class consistently, but she thought Monty would have been more determined to study. Clarke was probably the only other one making any headway in her work, but Raven wasn't sure that spending all that time colour-coding everything was actually studying. Honestly, how did these people get anything done?

Of course, none of them could figure out why Raven was even at the library, let alone studying this hard. They had all been quick to point out that she was going into the final with perfect grades. Literally. Raven had 100% in all of her classes. Well…except one. Raven had found a mistake in a calculation in her bio-mechanical engineering textbook and brought it up to the professor. He had insisted it was not a mistake until Raven went through the equation and corrected it. Turned out that her professor had written the textbook, and he was so impressed that she had been able to correct what no one else had caught that he gave her a couple bonus marks. Which is how she ended up at 102%. If anyone could blow off finals, it was Raven.

That being said, if anyone was willing to blow off finals, it was definitely not Raven. So here she was, in just as much of a mess as the rest of them. The difference was that Raven's intensity wasn't because of stress – it was just the way she was. Raven wasn't to be fucked with during finals, and everyone knew it.

If someone didn't know it, it wouldn't take them long to figure it out. The glare and the snarl that was her response to any sort of noise or interruption was probably the first clue for anyone. Otherwise, her eyes never seemed to leave her books – which was safer for all involved, really. Further evidence could be found through the occasional string of expletives in response to an input mistake on her calculator. At least, everyone else assumed it was an input error – it didn't seem like she had made any mistakes so far. Of course, there was also the international symbol for "leave me alone," which Raven had figured would dissuade anyone from talking to her. Her headphones had been placed over her ears as soon as she sat down, and if someone were to get within a foot of her, they would be able to vaguely hear some Motley Crue or something similar coming from her carrel. If those headphones came off, you should probably be running.

Most people couldn't understand why someone with grades like Raven's would be so crazy (not that anyone would ever call her that to her face unless they were looking for a smack down) while studying for finals. In all honesty, Raven couldn't be bothered to explain herself. There were few people in this world that understood Raven, and even fewer who knew her motivations in life. In fact, those people were exclusively within this study room. Her friends all knew the life of poverty she came from and they all knew how much Raven wanted to escape that. Raven wanted to be more than what was expected of her. Her friends got that, and she loved them for it.

Love or not though, the "don't bother Raven" rule applied to them just as much. Wick found that out the hard way. At some point in the night, his harmless pranks had turned their attention to Raven. He had managed to sneak up behind her without being seen and unplugged her headphones from her mp3 player. Any other time of the year, Raven would have rolled her eyes and carried on with her life. During finals though?

Wick nearly lost his life. He decided then that his sense of humour would be better expressed with other members of their group. Any other member really. Raven actually felt bad for her overreaction, but she would never let Wick know that. At least, not until after finals.

Until then, it was back to loud music and furious calculator button mashing. She was already the youngest student to be completing her degree and to receive the research grants she had, but it wasn't enough. Not yet anyways. Raven was going to destroy these finals.

The rest of her night went on without any interruptions. That was, until a small meteor shower occurred. Raven had been working through a calculation for the third or fourth time when a small paper star landed in front of her. She furrowed her brow, trying to decide if she was annoyed by its presence or not. Raven took a quick look around and saw Wick watching her over the wall of his study carrel, a sly grin on his face. There was a little bit of ink poking out of one of the folds, so Raven carefully unfolded the paper.

' _The calculus teacher tried to keep her students on task, but the class discussion kept going off on tangents.'_

Oh that was bad. So bad. She rolled her eyes, but giggled softly to herself. It was nice to smile during finals season, actually. Raven carefully folded the star back up and returned to her work. Until another one landed.

' _You turn my software into hardware.'_

She really did love this idiot.


	6. vi Monty

_vi. Monty_

Truth be told, it was kind of a blessing that Raven was so absorbed in her studying and had her music so loud. That was the only reason Jasper had been able to sneak back into the study room without disturbing her. He had left with Wick, but without the most important and integral part of his shenanigans with Wick – he had forgotten Monty. Jasper grabbed one of the wheelie chairs from nearby and carefully aimed it at Monty's desk. If anyone had noticed the rogue chair sailing through the room, they paid it no attention. That is, until it careened into Monty's chair with a resounding thud.

Both Jasper and Monty flinched as they looked over to Raven. She seemed completely unaware of the sudden noise, which was a relief. Bellamy apparently had heard the noise though, and was giving them both a disapproving look. He wasn't killing them, though, and that was better than Raven hearing anything.

Monty looked back to Jasper and gave him a questioning look. Jasper simply raised an eyebrow and motioned out to the hall. Monty grinned and followed him out.

Monty had been studying the night away in the back corner of the study room. On his own, without any influence from the rest of the rag-tag group, he was the most well-adjusted student to finals week. Was Monty intent on doing well on his finals? Absolutely. Was Monty studying hard and staying late in the library? Sure was! Unlike everyone else though, Monty wasn't experiencing the intense feelings of stress, panic, or dread. Jasper had told him that it made him boring, but Monty would take being boring over being a total wreck during finals any day.

Honestly, Monty felt like he was the only one of them here that was studying like a normal person. He wasn't downing coffee like his life depended on it like Clarke and Bellamy were. He wasn't taking turns between panicking and passing out as Jasper liked to alternate between. He didn't wander around the library and act like being here was a prison-sentence like Octavia. He didn't give up like Miller, didn't get intense like Raven and Murphy, and he certainly wasn't causing mischief like Kyle. Man, his friends had some weird reactions to stress.

Instead of all that, Monty sat in the back of the study room with his earplugs in trying to ignore the chaos around him. His notes from class were immaculate, so much so that he had been offered a great deal of money by other students to photocopy the pages. He would have done so for free if Jasper hadn't stepped in and bartered the price up. Monty felt kind of bad about that one, but Jasper had managed to make them a good chunk of change because of it. It was hard to feel too bad after that.

Monty also took regular breaks. They say when you study that you're supposed to take breaks, get up and move around, get something to eat. Naps are alright, too. Monty pretty much follows that advice perfectly. It had yet to fail him in his years of schooling. Actually, he felt so good about finals that he probably could have grabbed a ride with Nathan when he left earlier.

If Monty had been left without any distractions at all, then he would have done precisely that. He would be asleep at home right now. He'd wake up refreshed tomorrow in his own bed instead of in a library chair. Monty did so well studying like the good little student he was...except for during those study breaks which always ended up being much longer than intended.

He was, after all, undefeated in wheelie chair races.

"I haven't beaten you enough yet?" Monty asked smugly when he met the other two boys in the hall.

Jasper shook his head as he plunked down on his chair, "I will be triumphant yet!"

"Sure ya will," Wick laughed, "alright. You know the rules. First to the end of the hall and back wins. Your feet must touch the wall before you come back. No interference. No leaving your chair."

"And no pouting when Jasper loses," Monty added as he claimed his chair.

"I make no promises," Jasper grinned.

"Let's do this! Three. Two. One!"

And they were off.

It honestly wasn't even a fair race. Jasper was barely half down his return trip when Monty crossed the finish line. Jasper stopped trying and simply just walked his chair back to the starting point. He couldn't even bring himself to pout this time, he was too tired.

"So that's what, 12 to 0?" Wick asked, adding insult to injury.

This time it was Wick's turn, and Jasper knew he could beat Wick. While Wick may be infinitely stronger than Jasper, he was nowhere near as spry. This race was going to be his.

"Three. Two," Monty got ready to start the second race, but stopped counting.

"Well?" Jasper asked impatiently.

Monty was about to say that he heard someone coming, but was cut off by Wick realizing what had interrupted their countdown. Someone was coming, and by the sound of the boots that were clomping on the ground, it was going to be a couple of security guards. They had already been busted for these races before, and it hadn't been pretty. Kane, the head of campus security, had told them that this was an "inappropriate use of campus property," and that if they wished to remain on campus after hours to study, they needed to do so responsibly. Getting caught again meant they'd be asked to leave. During finals week, that was practically a death sentence for most kids.

"Go!"

The three of them grabbed onto their chairs and foot paddled away like their lives depended on it, because it definitely felt that way. They abandoned the chairs in a stairwell and hoofed it back to the library on foot. They must have gotten away with it because no one came barging in to remove them.

"You know, the three of us would get more done if you would just give those races a rest," Monty whispered as they all settled back into their desks.

"Would you have anywhere near as much fun though?" Jasper asked.

"True, but I'm not the one with an entire semester's worth of write-ups to finish, am I? Now if you'll excuse me, I believe it is nap time."

"You have time for a nap still?" Jasper asked, obviously a little crestfallen.

"Have you met me?"


	7. vii Wick

_vii. Wick_

Wick was probably in the wrong place. Raven was probably the only one actually getting anything done, but she was pretty insane about doing so. Monty wasn't panicking like everyone else, but at least he was here to actually study. Miller had gone home, but no one was sure if it was because he had already given up or if he felt ready for finals. Lincoln seemed to be here because Octavia was here. The rest of the gang was here mainly to panic and studying like it was their only purpose in life.

Wick was definitely in the wrong place.

He was rather upfront about it too. Did he come to the library tonight to study? Mostly. He did bring his books with him anyways. They were open on the desk and everything! Wick's reason for being in the library tonight had very little to do with the impending finals and almost everything to do with causing mischief. It's what he did best.

Later, the group would ask Wick why exactly he had come to the library at all. He clearly didn't need to study, his grades were just fine. They were nowhere near as good as Raven's, but to be fair, his entire grade was built on exams alone. Wick had mostly failed to go to his classes all semester, and couldn't be bothered to do projects or anything of that sort. He'd probably be a straight A student if he did. Ah well. It was also pretty clear that Wick would ace the final exam, so studying seemed kind of redundant. What else would Wick do, though? He could have gone out to the bar, but it would have been much less fun without these dorks.

So instead, he made mischief. It started innocently enough, usually with simply moving an item on someone's desk. It may not seem like much, but the reactions were pure gold:

The total confusion on Bellamy's face when he'd blindly reach for his coffee cup and find it not there. Wick could almost see the thought process as Bellamy looked up from his book, _'I'm sure I put it right there…'_ After this happened several times, Bellamy started to keep a free hand on his coffee cup. Wick's not sure if he ever figured out what was happening – it was entirely possible Bellamy thought he was just that tired. Eventually he started to remove the coffee grinds from the coffee maker so that Bellamy would get nothing but a hot pot of water. That one never stopped being funny, even after he figured it out.

The complete panic that crossed Clarke's face as she hunted for her supplies. Clarke was big on colour coding pretty much everything, so she had a countless number of coloured pens, highlighters, post it notes, paperclips, and whatever other item she could possibly have. She was so determined to keep her system flawless that it was impossible for her to use the "wrong" colour. Wick had to stifle a chuckle as she flipped her books and hunted for whatever item he had moved. Eventually Wick bored of it though. A few times he had changed the ink cartridges among pens so that they would be a colour different than Clarke expected. That one felt pretty mean though, so he only did it once.

Anything Wick did to Jasper, taking his pencils, moving his lab notes, changing out the reference texts he had on his desk, it didn't matter. It all received the same reaction. Jasper had a total meltdown. Honestly, Wick ended up feeling bad about it, which is why he tended to leave Jasper alone. Other than the races, but that was just fun.

Wick thought that if he re-ordered Monty's note that he would freak out. Wick was wrong. Monty hardly seemed to care, all the pages were numbered anyways. He felt like Murphy had enough issues without Wick mucking about. Lincoln he left alone because, even though he'd never say it out loud, Wick was kinda scared of him. Octavia was easy enough to get to – re-decorating her desk also happened to be pretty fun. Every so often he would get the chance to tie Octavia to her chair with her blanket. She thought it was just as funny as he did, which made it his favorite prank throughout the night.

Maybe this all seemed childish, and maybe someone may think it was cruel or mean. That was not Wick's intent. Finals were stressful and his friends were an absolute wreck. He didn't really know how to help them out, so he did the only thing he knew how. Wick lightened the mood by causing mischief. The best part was, it ended up working. Except for Raven. That one he had learned early in the night and his arm still throbbed from where she hit him. Wick was just glad he had escaped with his life.

After a couple of naps, the only other activity Wick really took part of that night, he decided that he needed to change it up. He still wanted to lighten the mood, but had tired of his previous antics. Thus, the paper airplane assault was born. Wick folded up a countless number of paper airplanes. These planes were pretty epic if he did say so himself, he was an engineer after all. He threw them around the study room, landing them on books, in coffee cups, into people's faces. It was great.

Again, except for Raven. She would probably actually kill him for that, and she'd probably also critique his airplane design because of course she would. For her, he came up with something different. Wick split sheets of paper into strips and wrote little notes on them. Terrible puns, goofy doodles, stupid compliments, anything he thought would make her smile. He then folded them up into origami stars. Using a make-shift slingshot made of elastic bands and paperclips, he launched the stars at her for the rest of the night. He watched her unfold them cautiously, and read every single one. She would blush and smile softly as she read them all, a look that Wick wished he saw more often. Raven then folded the star back up and left them in a pile in the corner of her desk. She never mentioned the stars later, so Wick was never sure if they actually did any good, but the smile on her face was enough for Wick. His heart felt lighter just knowing that he could make her smile like that.


	8. viii Lincoln

_viii. Lincoln_

Lincoln had never been one for social interaction. He had always been a bit of a loner, and he liked it that way just fine. He was alone most of the time, but he was never lonely. He'd had friends over the years, ones that he cared for deeply. At any point, Lincoln could pick up his phone and find someone to meet up with. Generally though, he enjoyed staying home on his own. He lived alone, too. It meant he worked a few more hours than ideal during school, but being without a roommate was worth it. Being around other people all the time, making conversation, it was tiring. He had a few friends that understood that, and those were the friends he spent the most time with. They were comfortable to come over and they could spend the day doing nothing. This was just who Lincoln was.

The only time this became taxing was during finals season. Too much solitude, whether he enjoyed it or not, was sure to bring him down. In previous years, he studied in his apartment. He would be set up at the kitchen table, and he wouldn't move from that spot for hours, if not days. While he appreciated that during the semester, during finals it just felt too isolated. His place was rather sparse and grim, and with low lighting it tended to feel worse. Plus, his neighbors weren't exactly quiet.

This year was different. This year was better.

Lincoln had transferred to Ark University this semester so he could pursue his master's degree. When he first got here he only knew one other student - his girlfriend, Octavia. Bellamy, her brother, had been hesitant about Lincoln at first, but had warmed to him eventually. Oddly enough, the two men bonded over a love of history of all things. The rest of her friends had welcomed Lincoln quickly. He had even found a fellow art-lover in Clarke. The two of them had taken a couple of elective classes together, which had been nice. Out of all of Octavia's friends, Lincoln liked Clarke the most. There was so much life in the small blonde. He could understand how she had become the centre of their group, even if she didn't necessarily like it.

It was because of these new friends that Lincoln found his normal studying routine changed. For the first time in his entire academic career, Lincoln was prepared to spend an all-nighter in the library. It was a nice change of pace from the solitude, even for an introvert such as himself.

That being said, Lincoln remained separate from the rest of the group. He didn't say much, even when they were chatting amongst themselves. It wasn't because he felt awkward around them, because that wasn't the case. It wasn't because he was too absorbed in his books, either. He just liked to listen. This was how he learned as much as he did about everyone. It's how he learned to pick up on what others did not. Over the last couple of months he had learned why Raven was so determined in her studies, where Clarke's passion for art rose from, why Kyle used humour as a defense mechanism, and that Bellamy was irrevocably in love with Clarke. For the last one, Lincoln wasn't sure if Clarke knew, or even Bellamy for that matter. That was the interaction Lincoln had been watching the most that night in the library. Everyone else had figured it out, except for Bellamy and Clarke. It was amusing and therefore, Lincoln remained quiet.

Actually, Lincoln was so quiet during their library night that it was often forgotten that he was there at all. That suited him just fine, especially when he would slip out with Octavia when she went on her many voyages. No one even noticed he was missing, which let them take as long as they wished. This pleased him. The only one that ever noticed their trysts were the countless security guards and janitors that found them throughout campus. Later, Raven would let him know that she totally noticed that he was missing too, and he would try to hide a sheepish grin as she teased him about it. Ah well, at least it wasn't Bellamy. That would be awkward.

Lincoln wasn't here just to observe the others though – that would be weird. Like any good student, Lincoln was here to actually study. He actually wasn't that worried about his finals. As a graduate student, it seemed like he should be in the same panic as everyone else. Most of his friends were in pretty technical programs, sciences, maths, medical, that sort of thing. Lincoln had chosen a less technical degree, which led to most of his exams being written and open to interpretation. Basically, as long as Lincoln could back up what he was saying with facts, then he could write almost anything. He had been in class all semester, so he knew he had plenty of information to be able to back up whatever it was he said on his exam. This wasn't his first round of exams, so he knew what to expect. There was no reason to panic.

Or at least he had thought so. Until he opened his books. He had a couple of notebooks he had been working in all semester. Except apparently, he wasn't working in the way he should have been. His notebooks, each and every one of them, were filled with sketches and drawings. Lincoln flipped frantically through his books, but found more of the same in each one. There were a couple pages where he had started taking lecture notes, but it was never more than a paragraph or two. Sooner or later, every single page devolved into some pencil etching.

What had he done all semester!? How could he have failed to take any notes? How could he have filled every single notebook with nothing but pictures? Honestly, he shouldn't have been that surprised. It was always a 50-50 thing with his notes, but he really thought he had done better than that this year. One day he'd learn to just doodle in the margins and take real notes.

That was a worry for the future though. For right now, panic was settling in. His heart felt tight and he could already feel the panic building in his system. To say this was not good was an understatement, this was actually a tragedy of epic proportions. Who doesn't have any notes to show for an entire semester, honestly?

All he could do now was to message people from his classes and hope that at least one of them had notes that he could look over and copy. At least one of them were likely to be willing to help, right?

Only one person got back to Lincoln right away. Indra, from his military history class. She unfortunately was unable to help him out. He wasn't entirely sure why, but knew he shouldn't push the matter. He had reached out to about half a dozen other peers, so he had high hopes that someone would be able to come to his rescue.

While he waited, all he could do was start reading through the textbooks. Every last one of them. Cover to cover. What else was he to do?

Good thing there was coffee.


	9. ix Octavia

_ix. Octavia_

"C'mon. I promise you this will be way more fun than that textbook," Octavia whispered, a smile on her face and a sparkle in her eyes.

Her smile was infectious, and enough to draw a smile onto Lincoln's face as well. Even still, he had to shake his head no.

Octavia pouted before returning to her seat, "fine, be an old fuddy-duddy."

She actually understood why he didn't have time to take another break. If she had found out that all her notes from the semester were actually non-existent, she'd probably have a total meltdown. He had handled it quite well, all things considered. It did happen to ruin some of her fun though, and she couldn't help but feel a little put out by it all. No more rendezvous in the janitor closets or empty classrooms. Which was a damn shame, because when you have a boyfriend that looks like Lincoln, there really is no better stress relief.

Her plan foiled, Octavia decided that she could at least have a little fun at his expense. It wasn't entirely for Lincoln though. In all honesty, she just wanted to be comfortable. If she had to be stuck here all night, the least she could be is comfortable. So with a fluid motion, Octavia unclasped her bra behind her back and pulled it out through the sleeve of her tank top. She grinned slyly to herself as she saw Lincoln swallow hard, even though he was pretending not to look. Mission accomplished, and she was much happier to be free of that awful contraption.

"Jesus O, was that necessary?" Bellamy whispered harshly from behind. "You can't be bothered to put some clothes on, and now this?"

"I'm wearing clothes. Pajamas are clothes, Bell," she rolled her eyes.

Bellamy sighed in defeat and returned to his books, clearly unsatisfied by the whole situation.

It was true. Octavia was in her pajamas. Again, if she was to be stuck here all night like a prisoner, she was going to be comfortable. She made the mistake of wearing her normal clothes once before. Tight jeans and layers were no fun. She was too hot and lost circulation by the end of the night thanks to the strange sitting positions. Her bra was the least comfortable item and had to be discarded. Any girl would agree with that, especially when studying. The slippers were just a nice addition this year, quelling the aches in her feet from all her laps around the library. They also let her move quietly, which was even better.

Also it was Christmas. She was going to celebrate the holiday, finals be damned. So she had worn her favorite reindeer pjs. They were red and soft and had always signified the holidays for Octavia. It never took her long to abandon her shoes; they were noisy while she walked and honestly her feet hurt by the end of the night. Octavia liked the freedom of being without shoes anyways. She learned quickly, however, that the floor of the library is absolutely disgusting. Her socks were black by the end of the night. It was enough to make her shudder, and this year she had come with protection against the gross floor. She had slippers.

Her slippers were green and shaped like elf shoes, a welcomed addition to her typical holiday garb. There had been a few snickers at her outfit as she wandered through the library, but they happened less and less throughout the night. For the most part, Octavia couldn't care less what other people thought about what she was wearing. On the odd occasion, it did bother her, and those people learned quickly that she would take no shit. Eventually, no one dared to make a snide comment.

When she was at her desk, Octavia found herself getting kind of chilly. She had been prepared for that though, and had brought a blanket with her. It was warm and fuzzy and covered in snowflakes. It was perfect. It was less ideal when Wick used it to tie her to her desk, but all in all she loved having her blanket. Again, comfort really was important to her while she was here.

That idea of comfort and her love of the holidays was what had led Octavia to decorate her study carrel. The decorations are what made it her favorite place on campus. If she'd had it her way, she would have decorated the entire study room, but that would have taken far too much time. Plus, she was pretty sure that Bellamy would blow a gasket being surrounded by Christmas stuff all night, and Clarke would never forgive her for the amount of glitter that would be floating around. So, Octavia would make do with just her own carrel.

There was garland draped around the edges of the walls, and bows at each spot where the tape was securing the garland. She had brought a small stocking and hung it on the corner of the carrel, which she filled with candy canes to hand out to her friends and those panicking students who could really use a pick me up. The coffee mug she had brought was a Santa mug, and she had made sure there were cookies to go along with said coffee. She probably should have been studying instead of baking the previous day, but hey, it was the holidays! She had a couple candles as well, and they smelled of pine. The crowning glory of her little study carrel was the small tree she had brought. She wanted a real tree, but unfortunately that would have been more trouble than it was worth. Instead, she had a fake tree with lights throughout it. It stood no more than four inches high and ate through batteries like the world was ending. It was all good though, because it made her carrel feel homey.

She was comfortable, she was surrounded by friends, she had gotten some quality time with her boyfriend, the spirit of Christmas was all around her, and she had an endless supply of caffeine. Octavia was feeling pretty good about life.

If only it wasn't finals season.


	10. x Clarke

_x. Clarke_

A desk! She had a desk. Clarke would have totally paid that guy five hundred bucks for his, but this was way better. It didn't take her long to settle in and dive straight into her notes. There was a lot to do, and she had already lost most of the day. Her list had been playing over and over in her head for the entirety of her shift. It had been pretty amazing that Clarke had been able to focus on anything at work with her study list looming over her.

Within five minutes she is a mess of highlighters, pens, post it notes, paperclips, and anything else she can use to colour code her study notes. There are stacks upon stacks of flashcards she had been using to review, and a brand new pack for her to continue. Her textbook stack is higher than the wall of the study carrel and she has several more open around her and ready to go. Her laptop was open and already kicking into overdrive as she opened an entire semesters worth of files. They had been meticulously organized in files within files on an external hard drive, which honestly made this whole cramming thing much easier to handle. She was teased on more than one occasion that her organization was over the top, but whatever.

She actually rather enjoyed it. Even if it made it far too easy for Kyle to mess with her. The first dozen or so times he moved her stuff around had been like a stab of panic to her chest. She nearly toppled her entire study carrel a few times over in attempts to relocate her items. He had apparently bored of it eventually, which she was glad for. It was much less amusing than he thought it was. Once he had changed her pens around so when she grabbed her blue capped pen, she actually wrote in green. Maybe it wasn't the end of the world, but at the time? It sure felt like it. Kyle seemed to leave her alone after that, save for the occasional paper airplane that would land on her laptop.

For now, she needed to reorganize her stuff which had been completely uprooted thanks to him. It was now that she realized she may have been better off at the study table instead of a small carrel. Ah well, she was set up now. Her earplugs were securely in and she couldn't see a thing beyond her fortress of studying. Her facebook had been deactivated on the first day of finals season to remove any temptation of procrastination once she finally hit the books. There were to be no distractions.

The only thing she had failed to take into consideration was the severe lack of caffeination. Clarke knew she was tired, but she hadn't realized just how detrimental it was going to be tonight. Her eyes were heavy and the words were out of focus on the screen. She spent more time re-reading paragraphs than she did actually reading her notes. Reading from her textbooks weren't going much better either.

It took her about a couple of hours or so to realize that her flashcards and post it notes had devolved into scribbles and doodles. Some of them were pretty cute, if she did say so herself, but many of them showed her in various stages of crying, buried under textbooks, and surrendering. Apparently her subconscious was trying to tell her something.

It would appear that she had been unprepared for the grueling day she'd planned for herself, but that wasn't the case. Clarke had actually brought a rather large thermos full of coffee with her for the night. She may or may not have stolen a great deal of coffee from the hospital before leaving. It wasn't particularly good coffee, but it was substantially better than what she'd find on campus at this hour. The coffee shops all closed down at nine most nights, but at six during finals. Clarke thought it was a great revenue opportunity missed, but then again, most of the employees were students so it was probably an act of mercy to close down early during the season. Without those coffee shops, there were three options: go off campus to the Starbucks down the way (which would take far more time than she had to spare), drink the instant coffee that the library had on offer throughout finals week (which would sure enough give her the kick she needed, but the taste was and texture was similar to drinking boiled soil), or bring your own.

Unfortunately, she had emptied her thermos long ago. Probably within the first hour of being in the library, which was actually rather impressive. It held two litres of liquid. It was rather disgusting that she had managed to down that much coffee so quickly. Any other time of the year, Clarke would probably be concerned with her health after that, but it wasn't any other time of the year. It was finals season and without coffee, Clarke would be dead to the world. At least this way she was more like a walking zombie. A walking zombie who was getting some studying done.

At least she was until her latest caffeine crash. Clarke had been beginning to think she'd consumed enough caffeine to stay awake for the rest of her life. It was actually kind of a relief that she had crashed. It was still a little concerning that she could hear her heart beating. Now that she thought about it, her hands were shaking quite a lot as well. It was suddenly an internal battle for the pre-med student: her need to study and her knowledge of what too much caffeine can actually do to the system. For a brief moment, it seemed as though her medical knowledge was going to win out over her need to stay awake.

Then Bellamy kneeled down next to her.

"You look like you could use another cup," He said, flashing a smile.

Clarke could only imagine the look of sheer relief on her face, and it must have been comical as Bellamy let out a hushed chuckle. She gladly grabbed the mug that Bellamy had held out for her, and only cared a little bit when she burned her tongue for the fourth time today.

"You are actually my favorite person in the whole world, did you know that?" Clarke breathed out as she savoured the taste of her coffee. It was real coffee and everything! He must have shared his own stash with her, which was as surprising as it was appreciated.

She didn't want to read too far into it, though. He had shared his coffee with Jasper as well. It was probably just a gesture of friendship and nothing more. A girl could dream though, right? Even during finals, when she had much more important matters at hand, it was hard to not get her hopes up. Maybe one day Bellamy would look at her as more than the freshman she had been when they met.

If her attention hadn't been completely on the coffee, she may have noticed a tinge of blush spread across his freckled cheeks.

"It was starting to look like you were going to die without it. Couldn't very well let that happen."

Of course he couldn't. Bellamy always had to help. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he stood up, giving a slight rub to her aching muscle. She watched him walk back to his desk opposite of hers and sighed to herself. That was a distraction she hadn't prepared for.

At least now she could get back to making her study notes.


	11. xi Bellamy

_xi. Bellamy_

Sometimes Bellamy wondered why he was studying with these people. He liked his friends, sure. He liked them more than he liked most people anyways, but that wasn't saying much. It was when he was surrounded by them for this extended period of time that he confirmed something he had long suspected. His friends were completely and certifiably nuts.

Watching them all run around like the world was ending was actually kind of amusing at least, but it changed nothing. They were insane. Sure, Bellamy was stressed as well, but was it really worth all this panic? Jasper looked like he was about to burst into tears at any moment, Lincoln was speed-reading through an entire semester's worth of books, Raven looked positively homicidal, Wick had become even more of a nuisance as the night wore on, even his sister had gotten in on the action. Decorating like it would help make the library feel less dreary and wearing pajamas for the night. He had thought that at least Monty would retain some form of sanity, but apparently he had hoped for too much. He had never seen Monty shirk his responsibilities in exchange for something like chair races.

Then there was Clarke. Clarke was the only person in the room, maybe even the entire library, who had managed to drink more coffee than he. That was saying something, since he had brought his own source of it. He had watched her finish a rather large thermos of coffee far faster than he thought was healthy. Now he was watching her fade fast. Some may say he had spent more time watching Clarke than he had studying his notes. Thankfully all of his friends were so busy studying, or avoiding studying, that they hadn't noticed. He had taken enough guff as of late from Raven and Octavia. He didn't need more.

He had thought about bringing Clarke some of his coffee for the last twenty minutes or so, about as long as he had been watching her this time. She probably shouldn't have more coffee, and his protective side was yelling that he should encourage her to nap instead. It was when he watched her head bob downward towards her keyboard that he decided that coffee was desperately needed, even if it went against his better judgement. That was a rather large stack of books next to her, so napping probably wasn't ideal.

He grabbed one of the extra mugs he had brought, probably the only evidence that he had ever intended to share with his friends, and poured the mug full. She was even getting the first cup out of the pot. Bellamy took a moment to appreciate how cute she looked, even as exhausted as she was, before kneeling down to offer the coffee.

"You look like you could use another cup," He said, flashing a smile.

Clarke looked down to him with a look pure joy and relief. It was as though he was offering her the holy grail in that moment. Bellamy noticed little else but the way she smiled at him in that moment. Her eyes lit up like the morning sun, and it did funny things to his heart. He was so screwed. He let out a hushed chuckle; it was the only way he could cover the embarrassment he was feeling.

"You are actually my favorite person in the whole world, did you know that?"

That was not helping. He was really glad that she was so absorbed in drinking the coffee that she failed to notice the warmth he felt spread across his cheeks. The fact that he was blushing over a girl made him feel like an utter chump, but if he had to feel like a chump, at least it was for a girl worthwhile. Too bad she'd never notice him. He'd been trying to get her attention since he met her during her freshman year. Of course he couldn't tell her that. He'd have to settle for something less revealing.

"It was starting to look like you were going to die without it. Couldn't very well let that happen."

With that he headed back to his desk to get some coffee for himself. It took a great deal of self-control to not cast a glance backwards at the pretty blonde. If he had, he may have caught her watching him. Shame.

Bellamy was about to return to his studies when he caught a glimpse of Murphy out the corner of his eye. Honestly, he had forgotten Murphy was even here tonight. Of course Murphy was here, though. Murphy was the one of all of them to spend the most time here. He put up a good front about not caring about finals, but they had all seen through it long ago. Murphy probably cared about finals more than any of them.

Bellamy always figured that Murphy felt like he needed to prove himself. He had come from a pretty shitty background and every step of his life so far had been a struggle. Honestly, he couldn't blame him for trying to show that he was better than what he came from. It was just a shame that Murphy couldn't see how far he had come. He didn't see the victories he'd already achieved. Just getting accepted into university was a huge deal. Murphy had worked his ass off to pay off the first years' worth of tuition on his own, which earned him a great deal of respect from almost everyone. He had continued that hard work and managed to earn a full scholarship for his second and third year as well.

Murphy was fucking impressive, even if he didn't realize it.

Right now, however, he was in rough shape. Bellamy wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd slept, but it certainly looked like time for coffee. Without saying a word, Bellamy placed a mug on the table next to Murphy. Murphy barely looked up from his notes, but gave him a nod of thanks. That was the most interaction any of them had held with Murphy in at least a week. Bellamy knew the depth of the appreciation simply based on the fact that he was acknowledged at all.

"And here I thought you only had a soft spot for Clarke," Octavia whispered smugly as soon as he returned to his seat.

"Damnit Octavia."

"You two really are the dumbest smart people I know, you know that?"

What the hell did that even mean?


	12. xii Miller

_xii. Miller_ or _The Morning After_

Miller was the only one of them who didn't spend the night at the library. He had left at eight that night, and really had no intention of spending any more time there than he already had. Some had assumed he left because he wasn't worried about finals and was ready, others thought Miller had written on the semester entirely. Neither of those were true. He had done fine throughout the semester, and a poorly written final wouldn't be able to completely undo that. He was still feeling the stress of finals though, just as any other student in that library. His feelings about finals, however, had little bearing on why he had opted to head home when he did.

In all honesty, he just wanted his bed. He was tired and his eyes hurt. There was no way he was going to sleep on campus like so many other students. If there was one thing he wasn't willing to give up, it was a decent night's sleep. It was once get got home that he realized that being at home was preferable. He wasn't really getting any studying done before, there were far too many distractions on campus. Sure the dorms weren't exactly quiet, but there was very few people there he wanted to converse with.

While he was sure he had missed out a lot of entertaining shenanigans at the library that night, he was pretty sure he got the better end of this deal. While they were all downing coffee like it was going out of style, Miller had been asleep in his bed.

He definitely had the better night.

Miller definitely did not regret his choice to go home to bed, but he did feel bad for his friends. They had been at the library all night with little more than copious amounts of coffee and whatever snacks they could scrounge up from the various vending machines and Jasper's secret stash. That was, if Jasper had been willing to share. Which was unlikely. So he planned to do what any good friend would.

In the morning, Miller returned to the study room. He was actually impressed that the room appeared to remain standing. He was sure they would have destroyed it by now. It was, of course, in utter disarray, but that was to be expected. The paper airplanes were a little unexpected, but they seemed appropriate nonetheless. The smell of coffee was strong in the room, and there was enough paper and textbooks on the floor to sink a ship. It was actually impressive.

He was also a little more than a touch surprised that there had been no casualties. He would have put good money on Raven or Murphy killing someone before the night was out. If nothing else, he was shocked that no one killed Wick. Even without the casualties though, the room sure looked like it housed the dead. It was as quiet as a funeral, and not one inhabitant looked very lively. Even Octavia, the one who was always bouncing and bright was looking pretty worn down. It was a shame what finals did to people. He was even happier he had gone home last night; he felt great.

As soon as he walked into the room, he was greeted by a chorus of boos and more than a couple balls of paper being thrown at him. He should have expected that.

"Hey! Is that any way to greet the one that comes bearing food?" He said as he held up a paper bag from the café down the street.

"Not if you had brought enough for everyone it wouldn't be," Jasper said, throwing another balled up wad of paper.

"Well this is for Murphy, because I know there's no way we'll be able to convince him to leave. For the rest of us, I have a table held at Nelly's," he pointed a thumb back over his shoulder. "Still wanna boo me?"

The serene look on all of their exhausted faces made Miller chuckle. He must have said the magic words. He left the bag on Murphy's table, which earned him a relatively gruff "thanks man," before heading off. As he walked away he could hear the string of profanities that had become common place. If nothing else, Murphy was known for whispering expletives to his pages. What purpose it served, no one was quite sure, but it probably had something to do with stress release. Whatever floated his boat.

There was minimal conversation at the diner while everyone piled food into their mouths. Between the need for real food and the pure exhaustion they all felt, talking was regarded as completely unnecessary. Miller figured it was fair and couldn't even bring himself to tease his friends. At least this time.

Well. Until Jasper fell asleep, his face falling to the table with a resounding thud. The impact wasn't even enough to wake the poor kid. Clarke looked as though she wouldn't be far behind as her head bobbed forward every so often. Both Raven and Lincoln and brought their textbooks with them and had refused to tear their eyes away. Bellamy and Octavia had shoveled food into their face like they had been starving for days. Everyone else was too zombie-like to contribute in anyway.

He couldn't help but laugh at their expense.


	13. Post-Finals (Epilogue)

It was over. It was done. The semester had finally ended, and they had all survived their finals. None of them were entirely sure how it happened, but it did. Almost all of them came out with straight A's as well. That was definitely a check in the win column. There was bound to be a grand celebration at some point, probably laden with booze and loud music, and probably in the form of a Christmas part if Octavia had her way. They did have to do the secret Santa exchange still, after all. Until then, however, they all had their own way of celebrating the end of their own ordeals. Though for Murphy and Miller, it was mostly just pretending that it hadn't happened at all…

 _Raven and Wick_

Raven and Wick had their last final together, and it was one of those early morning exams that no student was ever happy about. How is anyone supposed to write a three hour mathematical exam at eight in the morning? Eight in the morning should not exist period, let alone for an exam time. They had agreed to wait for each other afterwards and then go out for breakfast. It was really brunch by then, but that was just semantics.

Before they went, however, Raven wanted to have a quick shower and to change. It was one thing to write an early morning exam with greasy hair and sweatpants, but it was another thing entirely to go out to eat like that. Raven hadn't felt like a human being in weeks, and it was time to change that. Early morning meals were made for sweatpants, but not after finals week. Fuck that noise.

Wick couldn't care less about how he looked, so he went back to Raven's dorm with her. It was while she was rifling through her dresser drawer that he noticed something different on the nightstand next to her bed. Next to her lamp and just behind her clock sat a mason jar, one that hadn't been there before. The jar was filled to near bursting with small origami stars. She had kept every single one of them.

"Of course I did, loser," Raven smiled as she playfully gave Wick a light shove. "But did you have to make 365 of the damn things?"

"For you? Definitely."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Breakfast could wait.

 _Jasper and Monty_

Jasper finished his exams first, but only by about twelve hours. Those twelve hours were spent completely passed out. It had taken Jasper about four all-nighters in a row to finish everything for his semester, but he had done it. Somehow. He wasn't even sure how he had pulled it off. Actually, he had to wonder if there had been some form of divine intervention involved here.

Regardless of how it happened, it happened. His relief was indescribable. There was going to be so much partying afterwards! The amount of hours that would be spent wandering through virtual worlds and slaughtering bad guys was going to be sickening. Jasper had big plans for his time off between the semesters. Big plans. Huge plans.

But not until later.

Right now, sleep was his priority. Food should probably be important at some point too, but for now. Sleep. He could not stress it enough. He didn't even try to change when he got home from his last exam.

When Monty returned home that evening after his last final, he found Jasper exactly how he was when Jasper first got home. He was fully dressed, shoes still on, backpack strap still in hand, splayed out on the floor of their dorm room. Poor dude. Monty had hoped the total defeat would have ended with finals, but apparently not.

Well, just because Jasper was asleep didn't mean Monty couldn't have fun. As soon as he turned on the Playstation, Jasper was awake. They were both incredibly glad that they had picked up munchies beforehand. They hadn't eaten properly in weeks, and real food should be a priority, but the pipe that Monty loaded as the game started up was sure to prevent any real food from happening any time soon.

At least this all-nighter wasn't for studying, though they would probably regret it just as much.

 _Octavia and Lincoln_

Lincoln wrote right to the last day of exams. It had actually worked to his advantage this time, as it gave him a couple extra days to read through all those theory textbooks. He was jealous though, Octavia had finished her exams within the first couple of days. That meant she had almost an entire week of freedom before he even started writing his exams. He was happy to watch the stress fall from her face, though. That was enough for him. It was just unfortunate that his last exam happened to run until nine at night.

It had been a long day, but he was finally just moments from crawling into his bed. He knew Octavia was waiting for him, and that made it even better. He suspected she'd have some sort of surprise for him when he got home, like dinner or something. He wasn't expecting this.

He stepped into his apartment, and found himself surrounded by Christmas. There were lights and garland around the windows. A wreath on the back of his door. Bows and bells on the walls. Stockings next to the balcony door. Snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. A small tree in the corner, one that he was surprised to find out was real. The tree was decorated with coloured balls and silver bells and there were presents wrapped underneath. There was a faint smell of gingerbread wafting throughout the room. She had obviously been baking.

"What is all this?"

Octavia beamed at him as she came to meet him at the door, "you always say how drab your place feels. Thought I'd make it feel a little more festive."

Lincoln looked around. He had never seen his apartment look anything but dark and a little gloomy. He had never actually had a Christmas in this apartment. Actually, he hadn't had a Christmas since he moved out on his own.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"You haven't even noticed the best part," she giggled.

Lincoln quirked an eyebrow. Octavia nodded her head upwards, where Lincoln found a sprig of mistletoe above the door. He grinned wickedly before happily obliging the tradition. That was definitely his favorite decoration.

 _Bellamy and Clarke_

"Looks like Lincoln is hosting the Christmas party this year," Bellamy said, reading off the text message they had both just received.

"Oh, that's so much better than being in the dorms," Clarke replied as she unlocked her door. "Thanks again for the lift home, but you really didn't have to wait for me."

"Clarke, your car died. You had a late exam. I wasn't about to let you fend for yourself."

It had been a total nightmare when her car had refused to start. She had just wanted to go home between her exams, but apparently her little neon had other plans. It had refused to start, but no one could figure out why. Even Raven took a look and couldn't figure out why it wouldn't start. Clarke had ended up taking a nap on campus instead of heading home, which she supposed was fine, but she was already worrying about later that night. She was writing her last exam until ten that night, and without her car, it was going to be less than amusing to get back home.

Enter Bellamy. They had crossed paths as he was leaving his last exam and she was heading in. He had heard through others about her predicament and offered to drive her home. There was nothing she could say to convince him otherwise, because it was Bellamy. Bellamy would never let her figure it out on her own, because he was sure (and he was right) that it was dangerous for her to be alone that late. Clarke was actually beyond grateful for Bellamy tonight. It was cold, late, and she was absolutely exhausted.

"Why don't you come in for a while? We could watch a movie? Make some hot cocoa?" Clarke offered as she laid her book bag and jacket on the kitchen table.

Bellamy hovered at the door, running his fingers through the back of his hair, "I dunno. I should probably take off."

Clarke rolled her eyes, "that wasn't meant as an actual question. Get your ass in here, Blake."

He probably wouldn't have felt so awkward if he hadn't imagined this moment more times than he could count. Bellamy had been in her apartment plenty of times, but there was always at least one of their friends with them if not her roommate. Getting the chance to be alone with Clarke was something Bellamy desperately wanted, but now that he had that opportunity, he realized he had no idea what to do with it. Why was it that he knew how to get his way with any girl he ever wanted, but not Clarke?

Clarke set two mugs down on the coffee table, the steam rolling off the tops just visible in the dim-lit apartment. She settled into the cushions of her couch and looked over expectantly at him.

"Come pick a movie."

Bellamy sat down on the couch, though rather stiffly. How was it he could be totally normal around her all day, and now be reduced to this awkward, gawky kind of person? Clarke was having none of that though, and slid over to be closer to him. She pulled the plush blanket down from behind them and snuggled into both the blanket and Bellamy. An immense calm spread within him, and he finally settled into the cushy couch.

The movie was on for no more than fifteen minutes when they both fell asleep. They awoke sometime in the morning, completely entangled with each other. Bellamy thought he had woken up first and tried to carefully extricate himself from the mess of limbs and blanket. That's when he learned that Clarke had awoken first.

"Not yet," she whispered as she nuzzled into his neck.

Bellamy hadn't realized that Clarke had been waiting for this for almost as long as he had been.


End file.
